Your Tesla, A liontaur, Part humanoid, part natural you are the best of both worlds, You stand at 10 feet at the shoulders, broad
shoulders. Your chest is chiseled, muscles standing out through your fur, which you keep lightly cut for that reason, but your biceps and other muscles show through the thicker fur with little trouble. Your fur is a dusty brown, maybe
with a bit of a rusty look to it, slight variations in hue over your body, with a much lighter, almost peach underbelly. Your structure is Fairly compact for your bulk you have been called not "Long" enough on your taur half.
But its just better for holding big meals you know. You can cary your own body weight, and still use the turnbuckles,but that royal rumble. You remember with pleasure, you crawled out three times your entrance weight. Ahh, but those are
old memories.
Your chest is well toned and your taur half is as powerful as any, able to take many punches without noticing. Your not as agile as some but you can move around with a surprising ease, at well over a ton you have learned to use your bulk
to your advantage. Powerful taur legs and thick arms show superior pouncing power and strength, organic springboards almost, seeing someone like you scale the turnbuckles always is great for the crowd and you have such an ego. Your tail
isn't nearly as strong but it's good for distractions and teasing, the plume on the end full and soft, just like your mane which runs down the middle of your chest and behind your shoulders all the way to your taur half. sliding around the muscles your black mane has a nice shine that only your trainer seems to be able to get, he also is the best at massaging away your aches. He grooms your fur before every match, making you look as good as you can be, and feel even better, he smiles and gives your rump a slap "Go get em" He says.
Your dress is rather elaborate, at least it seems to take a while to put on, you wear a unbuttoned jeans vest, Gold coated steel bracers on all ankles and your wrists. You have a studded navel and a couple small jade hoop earrings on your right ear a few tail rings that shimmer and
slide in the lights of the arena. You also wear steel plates over your privates, mainly for protection, they strap around your back and are fairly secure You then put on your belts, Not official world champions in either case but they
cover your plates and make you look like the champion you should be, you remember the first person you ate in a match who struck them. there broken foot allowed you to play with them for nearly a full hour, egging the crowd into a riot
before you finshed them off..
You stroke your stomach softly as you prepare, the match is always the thing, but your post match activities, where you invite a spectator to be your dinner, well, that just makes you go over the edge, the fact that there is always one who
ends up with a ticked to your home, hung under your body. Your own self worth verified beyond all doubts, though the groupies that are waiting by your door are rather tasty too.. but it dosen't do to eat before an appearance, you have a week after. You lick your chops and wait to find out who and what kinda match your in for tonight. You hear the announcers roar your name as you walk from your dressing room
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